


Take a Bet

by bench



Series: Dave wears lingerie and likes it [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Giftstuck, Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:42:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2814035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bench/pseuds/bench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The problem, you reflect as you poke at the shoes on the floor in front of you with your toe, is that you don't seem to be able to stop yourself from making stupid bets with Sollux all the damn time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Bet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glowcloudy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowcloudy/gifts).



> The prompt requested someone "convincing Dave to wear a dress/high heels/lingerie and he's very reluctant at first only to find he actually loves it."

The problem, you reflect as you poke at the shoes on the floor in front of you with your toe, is that you don't seem to be able to stop yourself from making stupid bets with Sollux all the damn time. There is just something about the smug way he sneers at everything that makes you want to rub his face in it, and you have yet to present him with a challenge he hasn't accepted. Of course, this wouldn't really be a problem in and of itself if you didn't _always fucking lose_. You can't beat him at strife because he will just pin you to the ground with his eye lasers until you get tired of struggling and give in. You haven't managed to win at a single video game you have tried, and you've tested a huge array from the notoriously shitty to the famously excellent. He has kicked your ass at eating and drinking competitions all over the city — jello shot power hour, onion ring tower — you name it, he's beaten you at it despite the fact that he's the skinniest fucker you've ever seen. Any battle of agility or speed, which is usually your forte, is easily won with the assistance of aforementioned eye lasers. It’s gotten to be a bit of a joke among your friends: how will Sollux kick Dave’s ass today?

And your losses have left you in compromising positions the likes of which you never could have imagined before, growing more ridiculous each time he beats you. You have shaved his sign into the side of your head, dyed your hair, grown a mustache that could send young children running away screaming about stranger danger, worn absurd shirts from the darkest corners of the internet... You have eaten things that no person should ever be asked to eat and engaged in sexual displays that were downright absurd. You are never going to be able to put whipped cream on your pie ever again.

In the beginning you would have to clean his apartment or wear a different pair of shades for a few days, but with the frequency of your challenges the easy stuff was all used pretty quickly. Once you started dating that opened up a whole new set of options, but he seems to be finally running out of those too. You have actually had to make subtle suggestions just so that he would be able to follow through.

You turn to examine yourself in the full length mirror hanging from the inside of the wardrobe door and frown at what you see, trying to keep down a blush. You never should have forwarded him that link to the male lingerie site. It was just… sort of funny. You look away from the mirror again and run your fingers over the lace at your hips. It’s not like you could have predicted he would take it this far!

Ok, maybe you did, but you didn't think he would jump on the idea  _this_ fast.

Well, maybe you figured that too. You totally knew that he was out of ideas when you challenged him to see who could beat Omega Ruby faster. And you knew you were going to lose. When it comes to any sort of gaming Sollux is simply the best there is. The lace is silky under your fingers. You bite your lip and face the mirror again.

If you're honest with yourself, which is something you strive to avoid as much as possible, you have to admit you pretty much planned this from the very beginning. You're an adventurous guy. Kinky sex is the spice of life or something like that. This doesn't stop it from being really fucking embarrassing.

What you didn't expect was just how _thorough_ he would be about it. Panties were a given. You'd also anticipated some sort of equally lacy top-thing. The stockings weren't outside the realm of possibility, but you didn't think he would bother with the expense. You never thought he would get you  _shoes_. You prod them with your toe again and the rough bottom of the heel snags a little on your stockings. Where the hell did he even find shoes in a men's thirteen?

Thinking on it further you decided that you don't really want to know.

"I'm waiting," he yells from the living room, making you jump.

Ugh. Bluh.

"Calm your alien tits," you call out in reply, "I just need to put on the damn shoes!"

"Well get the fuck on with it!"

"Fine!"

You scoop up the shoes in one hand and drop onto his bed. They are annoyingly complicated with all the straps and it takes you long enough to get them on that you expect him to start yelling at you again. You make a face as you stand. The heels are fairly low, maybe an inch and a half, so you aren't struggling to stay upright, but you do feel pretty precarious compared to your usual surefootedness.

Before you head out to the living room you check yourself over in the mirror one more time to make sure everything is in order.

Honestly, you are… surprised. Pleasantly surprised. You rotate, giving yourself a thorough, admiring inspection.

Going into this you expected it to be a mostly-silly-but-sort-of-sexy experiment. Now that you are starting to get over the general embarrassment of the whole thing you are starting to feel like that might not be the case. It's more of a straight up sexy experiment. You didn't think that the lace panties would feel so very pleasant on your junk or that the bra-like top would make your abs look so good. The shoes even manage to make your giant man-feet look some semblance of dainty, which pleases you more than you would like anyone knowing. The second you started feeling sexy instead of silly this whole exercise changed around in your head. It’s starting to look like one hell of a good idea, in fact, assuming Sollux can get as into it as you are starting to be.

And why wouldn't he be? You look fucking hot, no reason to dance around it. As much as you despise the feel of them, the heels make your ass look godly. You were, of course, born with the plushest of Strider rumps, but this is something altogether different. Hell, you would fuck you. You strut back and forth a few times, just checking yourself out, until Sollux yells again, impatience and irritation heavy in his voice.

"Oh I assure you," you drawl with budding confidence, "I am very much worth the wait."

"Keep telling yourself that!"

You fling his door open so that it slams against the wardrobe, announcing your approach and inciting a wordless shout of annoyance from Sollux. You snicker. He hates it when you do that.

The journey to the living room is a dangerous one. It has a different carpet than the one in Sollux's room, and it keeps trying to devour the heels of your shoes. You only have to steady yourself on the wall once to keep from falling flat on your face though, that is just how good you are.

Teeth gritted with irritation, Sollux refuses to look at you when you first walk into the room, keeping his gaze fixed on what appears to be *How It's Made*. You clear your throat and he finally deigns to turn.

"About fucking ti—" His eyes widen and he bursts into a coughing fit, yellow spreading from his cheeks down his neck.

"You like what you see?" you ask, fluttering your eyelashes with enthusiasm and swaying your hips as you swagger over to stand in front of the TV.

"Oh hell yes," he whispers reverently once his coughs subside. His eyes keep flicking between the red lace across your chest and at your hips.

"I'll take that as a hell yeah," you say, voice dripping with smug pride.

"Go ahead and make it a fuck yeah," he replies as he eyes you from head to toe and back up again.

You can't help but revel in his appreciative gaze. Turning to give him the full effect, you imagine what he sees. Red strappy heels shaping your sheer-black-clad calves and making your red-lace-wrapped ass pop like you've never seen it. The practically transparent, lacy top only serves to highlight your assets further. You are toned as fuck is what you are getting at here. You are goddamn hot.

When you complete your slow rotation and meet Sollux's eyes again he is practically drooling and any reservations you still harbored about this whole thing going fly straight out the metaphorical window. You mentally forgive the heels for making your feet and calves ache. You would gladly wear six inch stilettos to get that expression of unbridled lust on your boyfriend's face again. Your budget could easily take the hit of a couple more outfits like this. Maybe a few in his colors, now that would really get him going. The way he looks at you has you concentrating on not getting hard underneath the red lace. It's a losing battle.

It's time to get on with the inevitable. You strut towards where he sits on the couch, breath coming quickly. His hands clench and unclench on the cushions. There seems to be a bit of action going on in the front of his pants. You are the sex god. It is you.

You swing your leg over his lap so that you are kneeling over him with a knee pressed to either of his thighs and rest your arms on his shoulders. You intentionally hover well over his lap. You aren't done hearing nice things about yourself just yet and he's the one who got the two of you in this position to begin with. He's going to have to work to get you out of it.

"So what do you think babe?" you murmur into his ear. "Good bet?"

"Do you lose on purpose? Half the time it seems like losing gets you right where you want to be." his lisp is much more pronounced than usual as he fiddles with the lace at your hips.

"No way... Wouldn't dream of it." You do love the way each and every bet since you started dating has involved him claiming you in one way or another. But you are too competitive to lose on purpose. Probably.

Apparently hearing the thread of uncertainty in your voice, he gives a sharp bark of laughter and through a combination of psionics and agility flips you around. You find yourself on your back with Sollux kneeling between your thighs, one hand braced on the arm of the couch just above your head.

"Well Dave," he purrs, getting a good feel for your chest through the bra-thing and making you squirm, "you've held up your end of the bet. We're square. You can go back and change now."

"How can I, when you're  _right on top of me_ ," you whine.

He starts to pull away and you whine, wrapping your thighs tight around his hips. You have the presence of mind to try not to gouge him with the heels of your shoes. "Sollux-fucking-Captor if you don't fuck me straight through this fucking couch right fucking now I swear to any god who will listen that I—" He interrupts you by pressing his lips to yours. You groan with relief and lean eagerly towards him, reveling in the feeling of the silky fabric pulling against your hardening cock.

You will definitely be trying this again.

**Author's Note:**

> The lingerie in question is [here](http://www.hommemystere.com/store/products/Vixen-Lace-Panty.html).


End file.
